Sweet Pea
by inglenook
Summary: As the Colonel said, "Break up with her." FalmanOC
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer:** I do not own ANYTHING from Fullmetal Alchemist. It all belongs to Hiromu Arakawa. The only thing I do own is that minor character I made up, but she doesn't really matter at the end of the day.

**Introduction:** This is my first piece of FMA fanfiction, and I'm already superimposing my own character into the mix. I was inspired by _Fullmetal Alchemist_ episode 37 ('The Flame Alchemist, The Bachelor Lieutenant and The Mystery of Warehouse 13') and _Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood_ episode 13 ('Beasts of Dublith') – actually, this takes dialogue directly from _Brotherhood_ episode 13. This mostly centers around the fact that we all poke fun at Havoc's inability to keep a girlfriend, but we are left in the dark when it comes to the rest of Mustang's team. Oh, and I love Falman. Oops. Read and review if you want to~

**Description:** As the Colonel said, "Break up with her." [FalmanxOC]

* * *

It was Colonel Roy Mustang's last day at the Eastern Headquarters, and he had asked Lieutenant General Grumman for a parting gift.

"Sergeant Major Kain Fuery." The young, spectacled man adjusted the collar of his jacket.

"Warrant Officer Vato Falman." He remained wordless, but his silence said it all.

"Second Lieutenant Heymans Breda." The stocky built man nodded in confident affirmation.

"Second Lieutenant Jean Havoc." The cigarette perched lightly between his lips twitched slightly as those light eyes stared intently at his commanding officer.

"Lieutenant Riza Hawkeye." The blonde closed her eyes and bowed respectfully. This would be just another step closer to fulfilling the Colonel's dream, and she was content to leave the Eastern Headquarters behind for him.

Settling his right hand on his hip, Roy Mustang declared, "The five of you will be transferring to Central with me." His mouth was pulled into a thin-lipped frown as he rested his left hand on his desk with a 'thud'. Slowly and confidently, he said, "I won't take any complaints. Come with me!"

In near perfect synchronization, Hawkeye saluted and was followed by Havoc, Breda, Falman, and Fuery, respectively.

Suddenly, Havoc let out a low groan that almost let his cigarette fall out from between his lips. He immediately went to the Colonel's side and whispered grimly, "Colonel, I can't." He raised a clenched fist in self-assurance as he continued on, serious and certain, "I just recently found a girlfriend."

Without pausing to breathe or think about it, Colonel Mustang turned to his subordinate and said flatly to what seemed to entire party present, not just Havoc, "Break up with her." His face bore no sympathy or even any trace of human emotion.

Second Lieutenant Havoc openly gaped and went back to the safety of the others. He mumbled a meager, "That's horrible, Colonel," as Lieutenant Hawkeye patted his left shoulder. To an outsider, it would look like an affectionate act of friendship. But the men knew better. It was as close to sympathy as she would get, guarding herself heavily as always, but she was really reminding Havoc of his crucial place in the military. Casual dating would only get in the way, and she hoped he understood.

Apart from Havoc, someone else understood the command.


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer:** I do not own ANYTHING from Fullmetal Alchemist. It all belongs to Hiromu Arakawa. The only thing I do own is that minor character I made up, but she doesn't really matter at the end of the day.

**Introduction:** So, this is the second chapter. Nothing too special here. Read and review if you want to~ :D OH! And I got my first review from GoldenRoya - sorry for the confusion! I was using actual dialogue from the show just to set the premise of the story. c:

* * *

"Miss Wagoner," Vato Falman greeted with a bouquet of fragile flowers. He bowed his head to her shortly before opening the door and ushering her into the homely restaurant. The amount of patrons was scarce, and they were seated to a table almost as quickly as they came in.

As Falman pulled her chair out with the flowers on the table, the brunette sat down and looked up at him with a wide smile. "Vato," she said as her hand grabbed his. Falman was careful to not let go as he sat opposite of her.

"Yes, Miss Wagoner?" He asked, his voice airy and gentle. He was always so light on his words around her.

"Vato," she repeated as her soft hand squeezed his. "We have been dating for nearly seven months. I wish you would quit the formalities."

He breathed a little uneasily. "Pamela," His voice quivered slightly under how easily her name rolled off his tongue. "Pamela," he repeated, stronger now. "I apologize. I just don't want to upset you. I know this outing is short-noticed, and I genuinely appreciate you coming out tonight."

"You're acting as if I didn't want to see you." She laughed wholeheartedly, and he could only smile back at her. "I barely see you enough, since you work so hard. It's nice to see you like this." Their hands dropped to the table, and her thumb rubbed at his inexperienced hand.

"I know, especially since our last date was exactly nine days ago and the last I had seen you after that was five days ago while I was running an errand." He rattled off without much thought.

"Vato," Pamela started with a little mischievous twinkle in her eyes.

"Yes, Pamela?"

"Do you know when our anniversary is?" Her question was a stab at the fact that he was just a man who would forget a vital date in their relationship calendar.

"The second of November, 1913."

But Vato Falman was no ordinary man.

Pamela smiled carelessly tossing her wavy locks over her shoulders. She caught herself just looking at him and his narrow face with sunken cheeks and the way he squinted, wishing that he didn't choose to hide the dark gray hue of his eyes. "You're thoughtful," she murmured before letting her gaze drop down to her menu.

They spoke throughout their meal – the lady with a salad and a hearty stew and the gentleman with stir-fried vegetables and chicken on a bed of rice – as any couple would. He asked her about her new job at the florist, and she told him of the many beautiful flowers. But she also noted that the flowers he had gotten her were much, much prettier. She asked him about work and his comrades, and he told her of Havoc's disorderly love life, Hawkeye's dog coming into work and other minor things in their Eastern office that made it home for him.

Their dinner had been finished for some time, but there was still light in their lamp and so there was still conversation on their minds. The night continued on, however, and soon their tales had brought them to the closing time of the restaurant. They went back outside where it was cold and breezy.

"I heard that Lieutenant Colonel Hughes passed away," she brought up warily. Her blue eyes looked at him briefly, but Falman didn't even budge an inch at her words.

He sighed quietly and, surprisingly, sought for her hand while they walked down the sidewalk. His fingers laced with hers as they walked from darkness into the light of a streetlamp and back into darkness, and her cheeks flushed at his outward affection. "It was a huge loss dealt to the military. It had Major Armstrong shaken up when the funeral had taken place. It came a great surprise to the Colonel, to everyone."

Pamela nodded, her mood suddenly turning somber. "How is the Colonel doing?"

"He is doing well, I suppose. However, he is being transferred to Central Headquarters." Falman drew in a staggered breath, and his heart pounded furiously against the inside of his chest.

She stared at him, fixated, for a moment before asking, "Will you be working under Lieutenant General Grumman now?"

"I will not be getting a new boss."

Her hand relaxed in his, and he felt her sharp inhalation.

"Oh," she whispered as he felt her trying to yank her hand out of his grasp.

"Colonel Mustang has requested that I transfer with him and the others to Central Headquarters." He held it firmer.

"Then, what will happen?"

"He told Havoc to break up with his girlfriend, but I believe he was speaking to all of us."

Pamela nodded far too quickly for Falman's liking and smiled far too sweetly. "I understand," she told him quietly. "When will you be leaving?"

"In two days."

"Oh, God," she sputtered out, forgoing her strength. She hid her face with her other hand as she shook from the startling news. "And, and you positively _have_ to go?"

"The Colonel requested me—"

"No, Vato," She shut her eyes and squeezed her hand into a fist. Her voice grew louder. "What I'm asking is: did you want to go? Do you _want_ to go? We have been together for seven months, and you are going to throw it all away for Colonel Mustang. Is that what you're trying to tell me?" She dragged a hand down her wrinkling face. "What if I wanted a future with you? Do you ever think of anyone but you and your coworkers and Colonel Mustang?"

Falman turned his eyes to the ground. "Please don't make it sound like that, Pamela. I must give up this relationship to aid the greater good. I have promised to push Colonel Mustang to the top, like the rest of us. Second Lieutenant Havoc will also be breaking up with his girlfriend." Their loyalty to Mustang was unwavering and almost frightening, but his naïve ideals were enough reason for all of that.

She remained silent as he felt her anger pulsate like an invisible force. He squeezed her hand tighter, and she sighed loudly in defeat. It was no use. "Will you, at least, write to me?" Her voice was strained and desperate and it hurt him more than any blow.

"If you want me to, Miss Wag—Pamela," he murmured as he swung their hands together.

"Send me a letter every two weeks. I know that you won't forget." They smiled, almost uneasily.

They had arrived at her apartment building. She stood on the steps, almost matching his height, and Falman smiled wryly. She held both of his hands and swung them in between their bodies childishly, staring at him with the help of a conveniently placed streetlamp. The night and poor lighting hid their sad faces.

"Will you walk me to my door?" Pamela asked as she fumbled for her keys. Falman nodded and opened the door to the apartments for her. She led him up the stairs, and they walked as slowly as they could. Even in their late thirties, they still acted like teenagers sneaking back into their beds, or perhaps that they did not want their night to end.

They stood there, in front of her door, for what seemed like an eternity. It was hard to attain and even keep a girlfriend while a man was in the military – Jean Havoc being a prime example. It was harder for a man with graying hair and almost no battle experience to even get a woman's attention. It was near impossible to make Pamela's face in the darkness, but Falman had memorized every inch of her and everything about her.

She hung her thin arms around his broad torso and let him hold her close again. She buried her face into the crook of his neck and breathed in deeply, the subtle scent of ink invading her senses. Falman put his arms around her waist and pulled her even closer, this little piece of a normal life. She tilted her head up and rested her chin on his sternum. They stared at each other in that amorous embrace.

But, when they pulled away, they were only friends.

Pamela Wagoner opened the door and turned on the light, and Vato Falman handed her the bouquet. He leaned in and kissed her cheek delicately, and she cupped his in mutual understand.

"Good night, Miss Wagoner," he said as he left.

"Good night, Warrant Officer Falman," she replied meekly as she closed the door behind her. He walked down the stairs and went on his way home.

He felt bittersweet about their break-up. It was nice that she had understood so well, and she was always such a compassionate person. However, their break-up left him feeling sullen and awful.

She sorted the flowers into a vase and smiled at his sentiment. "Lavender roses," she pondered out loud. "My favorite." She filled the vase with water and got a small knife, cutting the stems while they were in the water so that they would live much longer. "Pink and purple Veronicas," she said, beaming radiantly. "And purple sweet peas for departure." She smelled them and put the knife on the table before wiping a tear from her eyes.

"Thank you for a lovely time, Vato," she muttered with an overwhelmed, tired sigh before turning off the light in her kitchen and going to bed.


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer:** I do not own ANYTHING from Fullmetal Alchemist. It all belongs to Hiromu Arakawa. The only thing I do own is that minor character I made up, but she doesn't really matter at the end of the day.

**Introduction:** Okay, well, this is the last chapter. Hopefully someone out there liked it. Besides A. HARHAR. It's about midnight here, so, GOOD NIGHT. 3

**Description:** As the Colonel said, "Break up with her." [FalmanxOC]

* * *

The next couple of days seemed like a blur to Colonel Mustang and the others.

But to Falman, it was awkward and boring.

He kept telling himself that he was going through all right, but it was a lie.

As he cleaned out his dormitory before their morning train to Central, Falman found little things that reminded him of Miss Wagoner. There were many, nondescript details: the color purple on a notebook log, small, nondescript words that morphed from his manly scrawl into her curled penmanship and formed love notes and cute little phrases, nonsense numbers that rearranged into her telephone number, maps of Amestris that reminded him that he was leaving another home behind, and almost everything else triggered his flawless memory to remind him of her.

Again, as it was for the past two nights, Falman did not rest.

The next morning was loud and stinging.

Havoc's ex-girlfriend seemed to be a thing of the far and distant past as the Second Lieutenant asked the other men in the room on their opinion of the women from Central. "I bet city girls have lots of style," he mused out loud as he sat in his seat with a leather briefcase at his feet.

"Damn, Havoc, you really don't waste any time, do you?" Breda jeered with a familiar, warm smile. He let Falman sit down near the window and took the unoccupied space next to him. In turn, Fuery sat next to Havoc.

Lieutenant Hawkeye and her dog, Black Hayate, sat with each other across the walkway, and the Colonel was speaking with Lieutenant General Grumman outside of the military train. There was a lack of official farewell as it was early in the morning and, well, it was just Colonel Mustang and his soldiers leaving. They weren't superstars.

"The way I see it," Havoc began as he eased a hand behind his head. "I just want a," He stuck out his thumb. "Cute," Then his index finger. "Funny," Then his middle finger. "Nice," Then he stretched out all five of his fingers. His voice got louder, and he spoke faster. "I just want a CUTE, FUNNY, NICE girl with a GOOD personality who won't be so COLD with me!" He grunted and lit himself a new cigarette.

As Breda laughed heartily as Falman looked out the window. He had the view of the Eastern Train Station, as opposed to Havoc, who had the horizon. He sat up straight and kept his hands folded in his lap. As his eyes searched the crowd, he had no idea just what he was looking for. Maybe it was Colonel Mustang's signal that they could all get off the train, that it was just a test to their loyalty. Maybe it was another faction of the Eastern military troops to replace them.

Maybe it was a certain brunette with kind blue eyes.

Maybe it was the said brunette dressed in a dark gray dress and a white cardigan.

Falman blinked as he saw her come towards his window, sashaying and smiling. He felt his lips curl upwards and he brought his fingers up to graze the surface of the mirror. She seemed to come closer – did she come to say farewell? Her timing was perfect! He didn't even tell her when, exactly, he was leaving!

Then she vanished before his very eyes.

It was a cruel apparition, and Falman had never felt more alone despite the good company around him.

He was seeing her everywhere. He thought he had seen her waiting outside of the Eastern Headquarters for him after work. He thought he might have seen her while eating lunch in the cafeteria, even though it was unlikely for her to even be let onto military premises. He thought he could smell the light, floral scent of her hair while he walked home. Now? Now he was sure that he saw her, that little quirk of a smile.

He knew better. She wasn't really there. His mind, his eyes – they were all backstabbing him for being foolish and, pathetically, as to 'in love' as he could.

"Oi," Havoc resounded. "Who's the lady at the window?"

They all turned to look, and Falman felt his throat wringing itself dry.

He stood up and took the window down. The sun had barely risen over the horizon, and the sky was a marigold and rose and lavender. Falman leaned out of it while his three closest comrades stared in confusion in the background.

Pamela looked up at him as her fingers toyed with the gray fabric of her dress. "Warrant Officer Falman," she greeted with a slight nod.

"Miss, Miss Wagoner," he managed to get out.

Havoc leaned close to Fuery. "You know who that woman is?"

Fuery shook his head.

To which Havoc replied, "You're in the dorms with him! What do you mean you don't know?"

"I don't know!"

Falman beamed down at her as she reached up and grabbed his hand. He panicked. This was not appropriate for the environment they were in. This was not appropriate. He saw her slip a cord around his wrist and felt a weight from an insignificant pouch hanging from his wrist. She held onto his one hand with both of hers and dragged his arm down until he felt her kiss his tender, war-absent hand. It was quick and simple, and when she let go, he felt frozen over.

"Just something to remember home by," she told him warmly. "Not that _you_ would ever forget."

Falman nodded. "I'll write you as soon as I get settled."

They were silent as they stared at each other. Colonel Mustang came onto the train and looked at his men before looking at a distant Lieutenant Hawkeye for answers.

Falman cleared his throat before opening his mouth to say something, despite that it was wholly impolite to say such intimate words in front of his colleagues.

But, as if to save him face, Pamela told him, "I'm going to miss you so," She sucked in a sharp breath. "So, so much. Please don't forget me."

"I won't." Falman reassured her before the train signal sounded. She waved at him as he closed the window and sunk back into his seat. He stared at her as the train began pulling away. Breda was silent beside him and so was Fuery. He could feel Havoc's intent, knowing – because who but Havoc knew the mysteries of a breaking heart? – gaze on him.

Falman watched her until she was completely out of sight and took the pouch off of his wrist. He put it into his own bag, knowing full well that he would examine its contents at the proper time. With Breda, next to him, clearing his throat, Falman couldn't help but smile a little as he turned to his comrades.

Let the questions begin.


End file.
